


The Plutonium Hydra

by THHuxley



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien references, Blade Runner References, Crozier and Jopson have a profound bond, Day the Earth Stood Still References, Drug Use, Greek Mythology References, Little and Jopson argue a lot when they are not on duty but they get on better later, One or more characters may secretly be an A.I, Other, Pluto and its moons, Sci-Fi AU, Space Exploration, The Terror and the Erebus, Thomas Jopson is main Character, Virtual Reality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:20:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23017651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/THHuxley/pseuds/THHuxley
Summary: Set in the year 2240, won't venture a serious guess to what the culture will be like two hundred years from now so I just tried to make it as close to Victorian as the genre permits, gives this a sort of Treasure Planet vibe, basically the culture and class system are Victorian but the technology is Chris Foss inspired. Two advanced ships doing research on Pluto and its moons when things go horribly wrong.
Kudos: 12





	1. The Hydra is in view

**Author's Note:**

> Torgluecaff is a made up drink that Crozier is addicted to instead of Whiskey, it gives a good burst of energy but causes mood-swings, insomnia, dulling of thoughts and senses if over used. Can also cause weird hallucinations but only after several nights of sleep deprivation.  
> Benzodiazepines are any kind of sleeping drug really.  
> Jopson is lower in age rank and class than most other characters but is able to attend to officers meeting and dinners so I chose to make him the main character.  
> Jopson and Crozier have a teacher-student type relationship, taking a page from Bridgens and Peglar.  
> Jopson and Edward's sore relationship will be explained further in chapter 4.

The Year was 2240. 

The largest and most technologically advanced Space Fortresses of their age; The Erebus and The Terror; flew at full speed by the colossal, cobalt orb of Pluto. They yet appeared as two microscopic, white, bubbles of human habitat edging slowly as halted sweat droplets across the planetoid’s red, white and blue face. 

The Erebus led this charge into the frozen unknown and Terror trailed behind her. A ring of silver communication satellites encircled each of the vessels, both were submarine-oid and beetle-like, with golden solar sails folded on their backs and under a protective shell when not in use.  
The Terror had more pocks and appendages on its surface than the slightly more elegant Erebus. For The Terror had once been a war ship, and these nodules were once the hatches of crystalline cannons. The Terror had been mostly disarmed since The Pax Solaris began. A few cannons remained just in case.

The Erebus had always been a peace-time space exploration vessel and was more pristine, furbished both inside and out than her sister ship.

The first blip rung in both ships, the officers and crew woke to it and the pretend mornings commenced. On the Terror, early twenties petty officer Thomas Jopson went to the door of The Terror’s Captain’s cabin and scanned his hand to be allowed to enter. The door unlocked with a loud click and slid open automatically. 

The Captain’s quarters were cold and dark. Jopson could make out a broad silhouette slumped in a chair at the other end of the room. 

“Good Morning…Captain? …Are you awake?” Jopson asked nervously.

The shape in the dark stayed still but a raspy, tired voice came from it. “How could I sleep in a place like this?” Captain Crozier grumbled rhetorically.

“You were advised to take the pills, sir.” Jopson suggested softly.

“The side effects are not something I want to risk unless I’m absolutely desperate. The Torgluecaff* will fix me.” The Captain grumbled and yawned. 

“Sorry sir, but Torgluecaff can be just as dangerous a drug as the Benzodiazepines* if overused.”

“Well Jopson, I preferer medication that keeps me awake over medication that sends me to sleep.” The Captain snapped back quite irately.

“Understandable, sir.” Jopson shrugged and sashayed across the room to stop at what looked like a black wall until he pressed a button to open the shutters to a giant, fish-eye window. 

Pluto’s cobalt glow and a smattering of other glittering pink and white stars filled the room and Crozier winced and covered his face with his hands. “Oh my head, damn it all!”

“The Hydra is in view, sir.” Jopson informed him calmly and with a smile. The petty officer turned to observe the view of Pluto and its moons and stood with his hands clasped together behind his back.

Crozier stopped rubbing his grey, sagging eyes when he heard this, his back straightened, he turned and forced himself to look at the light. After a few blinks the blur of his vision began to ease and he stood up and stumbled towards the window, and Jopson’s silhouette.  
The Captain came to stand next to his young, dark haired assistant and look out with him: After the bow of Pluto’s snow-powdered and rusted-metal-coloured horizon was the lilac orb of Charon; it’s largest moon, and distantly beyond that, suspended in the black void lay the little, grey, misshapen, astronomical body of Hydra. 

“Hydra is the furthest moon-oid from the sun we have yet discovered. Seeing it means we’re further away from earth than any other living being in history.” Crozier remarked with amazement and relief, but also concern in his voice.

“This must be almost twice as far from Earth as we slung on our mission to Mercury, last decade.” Jopson gasped.

“Exactly twice as far.” Crozier nodded.

“If Charon and Hydra are in view, Captain, then shouldn’t we also be able to see Styx, Nix and Kerberos with our bare eyes? And what of that new moon you recently discovered?” Jopson asked.

“The moons are not all aligned, and we probably won’t see them align during the duration of our trip. Nix is probably on Pluto’s far side for now. The others may be partially in view from our stern. And my egg-shaped moon is behind Charon presently. It’s remarkable enough just to see Charon and Hydra lined up like this! Without the use of a telescope!” Crozier explained enthusiastically. 

“It is remarkable…” Jopson agreed and smiled at him. “But… what would you like for breakfast, Captain?” 

Edward Little was The Terror’s first lieutenant. He was a strongly built man of medium hight, with sharp, handsome features barely dulled by his age nearing forty now. His hair and eyes were walnut brown, turning red on the tips of his sideburns as an indicator of his recessive genes, as were the peppered freckles on his fair skin. His eyebrows where thick and his nose long and pointed. He carried himself with the stiffness of a gentry man consumed entirely with duties and propriety.

The reception of the silver-haired Sir John Franklin, Captain of the Erebus, and his dashing young Third, Commander James Fitzjames, in the boarding airlock of the Terror, had come as a surprise to Lieutenant Little. Normally the ships signalled each other before sending men over, but Erebus had been worryingly silent since the previous ‘afternoon’. 

Lieutenant Little shook the Erebuses’ hands and greeted Franklin and Fitzjames with forced enthusiasm and all due, stiff politeness.

After the formalities Captain Franklin informed, “We have had radio silence from you since yesterday afternoon. We came to find out why, and we should very much like to Breakfast with you.” 

Little bowed his head slightly in a pseudo-apologetic gesture. “We have also had radio silence for Erebus for the same duration, sirs. Mr Blankey has suggested a disturbance in our satellite rings. It seems some of Erebus’s satellites are damaged or obscured in some way, as we have examined our own and have found no faults and all is clean.

“Although we have examined ours, I would suggest sending out droids to re-examine both ships and find the cause of the signal blockage. Can you have that done right away, Lieutenant Little?”

“I’ll pass the order on to Lieutenant Hodgeon, sir. I have the more pressing duty of fetching Captain Crozier for you. Will you wait for him in the mess?”

“Gladly.” Franklin beamed. While Franklin and little spoke, the towering, long haired gentleman, Fitzjames, flitted between them with his light hazel gaze, observed unfamiliar surroundings and the obscured view of Hydra from the small windows in the reception deck. He looked bored out of his thick, square skull. 

Little passed Jopson in the Terror’s central hallway. Little stood deliberately in front of the younger man in order to halt him. Jopson shuddered at the demanding and impolite gesture but the superior officer had urgency all over his face. “What state is the Captain in!?” Little asked him in a serious whisper.

“Good morning to you too, sir!” Jopson replied with fake jollity and a glare. Little looked around himself as if to check he wouldn’t be overheard.

“Captains Franklin and Fitzjames want to see him in the mess at once to discuss damaged satellites and to Breakfast with us. Do you think you can get the Captain looking presentable and in full uniform in time as to not cause them any concern?” asked Little, trying not to be too forceful despite his urgency, as he could see he was upsetting the younger man.

“I was on my way to organise breakfast, sir.” Jopson said innocently and with a coy smile. He flickered his long eyelashes at Little.

“You’re being insubordinate, just answer the question.” Little spoke flatly and glared back at Jopson.

Jopson’s smile widened. “Yes, sir. Despite circumstances, I can make sure he is in full uniform and in the mess in twenty minutes time approximate.” He practically bragged.

“Good, go and do it then.” Said Little sternly, waving his hand in dismissal. 

Jopson laughed and shrugged.  
“What a way to get someone’s attention, I shall remember that!” Jopson mocked playfully before turning back to the Captain’s quarters.

Little shook his head and sighed. 

Two blips sounded.

“Why is it called Hydra, sir?” Jopson asked, before clenching his teeth over a stray thread on the Captain’s sleeve that he wanted to break off.

“…What?” Crozier asked tiredly.

Jopson looked up at him with curious, lunar-green orbs and the thread snapped. The younger man’s eyes flitted downwards as he put the thread and needle away and picked up a golden shoulder insignia.

“That furthest moon, sir, why is it named thus? What does Hydra mean?”

“It was named after The Hydra from Greek mythology. Do you remember the story?” Crozier asked and punctuated his sentence with a deep yawn. He leaned away from Jopson’s helping hands to swig from his bottle of Torgluecaff. Some of the brown, bittersweet liquid trickled over the captain’s thin, frowning lips and dimpled chin. 

“I don’t think I’ve heard that one, sir.” Jopson hummed shortly and gently wiped Crozier’s chin clean with a cloth.

Crozier did up the rest of his buttons like golden ribs lining the breast of his indigo uniform. Meanwhile Jopson fixed an epaulet onto his right shoulder.

“It’s a big, reptilian monster with many heads. When you cut of one of its heads, more heads grow from the neck stumps.” Crozier explained.

“Is that a metaphor for something?” Jopson enquired. He moved a silky lock of hair that continually escaped his ebony side-fringe away from one of his piercing eyes and moved to fetch the second epaulet from the open, synthetic-oak draw behind them. 

“What do you think?”

“Sir?”

“Go on.”

Jopson fixed Crozier’s other epaulet and then moved to straighten his collar and cravat.

“How shall I put this…? when there is a rebellion… the more ringleaders the opposition kills, the more zealots pop up and take their place?”

Crozier smiled at him. 

Jopson began combing Crozier’s graying reddish-blond hair neatly to the side, gently eliminating it’s previously knotted and greased appearance. Jopson had now made him look as presentable and handsome as a fifty-something year old man with a bad case of insomnia and other vices could look. There was nothing he could do about the dark circles under Crozier’s eyes though. 

“The Goddess Hera raised the monster to kill Hercules. He was asked to slay the Hydra by Eurystheus, the king of Tiryns. While Hercules chopped away at the monster’s necks, his nephew, Lolaus, cauterised its wounds so the new heads would not sprout up. They defeated it together.” Crozier finished.

“Um… I’m a little shaky about my suggestion now, sir.” Said Jopson wearily as he set the comb down atop the chest of draws.

Crozier gave him a gap-toothed grin. “Well you shouldn’t be. Demigods and kings, trying to destroy a many headed opponent? It certainly sounds like a metaphor for rebellion against divine authority to me. And Sir Francis Bacon said as much. Though I never would have pondered the evidence of that metaphor if you hadn’t pointed it out to me.” The Captain chuckled under his breath as he praised the young petty officer.


	2. Bubble Worlds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sir John Franklin and James Fitzjames have breakfast with the Terrors. They discuss their missions in that part of space and theorize about alien life.

Three blips sounded.

Thomas Jopson served the Officers and Captain’s their breakfast in the Terror’s mess.

Between courses he stood with his back to the wall and watched and waited in patient silence.

Commander James Fitzjames became embroiled in a tale of personal heroism during the war against Martian separatists on Romulus, and this kept all present thoroughly entertained, accept the Captains, who had heard the story at least twenty times by now.

Jopson looked sympathetically at Captain Crozier. He recognised that it wasn’t just boredom on the Captain’s face, there was a silent moral outrage and an utter sickness for this perfumed chatterbox’s nonstop bragging.

Sir John Franklin looked slightly disgusted when it came to Fitzjames's vivid descriptions of warfare while he was trying to eat. Twice as uncomfortable due to the fact he was sat between Fitzjames and Crozier.

The heavy glare Crozier directed at Fitzjames would burn a hole through anyone caught directly in its path.

Franklin wondered why Crozier could not simply be as happy and eager for the adventure ahead as the other men in the room. Then he concluded that it was not so simple because of the multitude of theories as to what had turned Crozier into such a scornful man. Perhaps it was all the possibilities combined, he thought.

Poor Fitzjames’s intentions were wholly innocent, he merely wanted to lighten the mood, keep spirits high, and the boyish enthusiasm the others, especially Edward Little, shared for hearing his stories, encouraged him greatly.

Jopson was pleased to see that Lieutenant John Irving was in a world of his own, focusing entirely on the taste of the food above all else. He knew Irving didn’t have the attention span to listen to such a long story.

Fitzjames said something about burning flesh, Jopson didn’t fully register it but it made most of the company laugh.

lieutenant Hodgson, who had wispy, snowy blond curls and an almost but not quite effete pampered-ness about him, was sat next to Crozier at the table. He stopped himself from laughing when he too noticed the crystal daggers of his Captain’s eyes pointed at Fitzjames.

Breakfast was almost over now. Jopson walked around the table and silently offered everyone a drink with their vitamin pills.

The only man to turn down the offer was their always chipper, golden haired, Scottish doctor, who swallowed the pills dry. Doctor MacDonald tapped Jopson on the shoulder and whispered something in the lad's ear about avoiding the pills used to help with sleeping and waking. “They cause impotence. Especially in younger men.”

The doctor was sat furthest from Fitzjames, who was still monologuing, so it was easy for the Doctor to whisper to Jopson without being heard. Jopson’s cheeks briefly turned pinker than usual and he continued around the table.

When it came to Crozier, Jopson felt compelled to remove the sleeping and waking pills from the Captain’s concoction.

Crozier was oblivious to Jopson and boiling over at Fitzjames’s every word. “Tell us about Bird-Shit-Asteroid why don’t you James!?” Captain Crozier requested mockingly, interrupting Fitzjames’s tale. Everyone looked at Crozier in astonishment.

Jopson covered his mouth to stop himself from laughing out loud.

Fitzjames was silenced, blinked at Crozier in bewilderment, then continued to study the Terror's Captain with his light brown orbs.

Now Fitzjames looked like a savanna cat gazing at a bovine through the grass. He wouldn’t let Crozier, his metaphorical pray now, guess if or when we would make a retort to burn him equally in return for this humiliation.

Goodness, Franklin knew, that he had to do something to stop the men either side of him, from leaping over the table and trying to murder each other with their plastic butter knives.

“I understand that Francis has found a new moon Orbiting Pluto!” Franklin announced.

Jopson looked at Irving, who still didn’t know what was going on and was staring sadly at his now empty plate.

Jopson got his breath back and went to the back of the room to fetch some extra food for Irving. Everyone else had leftovers but not Irving. In the Stewards own house the leftovers would have been given to the hungriest child but suggesting this to well off officers would have been an insult. Jopson would have an opportunity to pick the plates clean himself, later on when no one was watching.

“It is yet to be named.” Sir John continued. “And I thought Sir James Ross should be honoured thus.”

Jopson heard this and froze. He looked over his shoulder and saw that Crozier was wounded.

“...He’d be very pleased.” Crozier said with a sad smile.

“Here, Here.” Fitzjames Cheered.

The Terror’s Lieutenants all looked quite disappointed.

“So.” MacDonald began. “It’s Ross and Charon that we shall be sending our first exploration parties out to. Is that today?” he asked.

“Tomorrow.” Said Sir John.

“Today we will be focusing our attentions on fixing the broken satellites, Doctor.” Lieutenant Little informed MacDonald.

“I wasn’t made aware of any problems with our communication satellites.” Said Crozier.

Jopson was returning with extra food for Irving now and he grit his teeth.

-But you were, sir, I watched Lieutenant Little tell you last night, but you were too intoxicated to register him. You shouldn’t have said anything Captain, you’ll make yourself look incompetent. -Jopson thought.

Jopson looked worriedly at Lieutenant Little. What Edward said now could really affect Croziers standing with the Erebuses. Little’s lips tightened and he exchanged a glance with Jopson, who was now stood behind the Terror's Captain, with his back to the wall.

-Idiot! Why is it I know what you should say but you do not! Tell them you are sorry that you did not inform the Captain, but you didn’t think it was urgent!- Jopson screamed internally at Little.

Jopson shook his head at Little and Little looked down and said nothing, but his eyebrows wrinkled with worry.

“Will we be sending any parties to Pluto it’s self at any point during our mission, Sir John?” Hodgson asked in a voice so dripping with modesty and politeness that he enticed Franklin to answer him instead of continuing to discuss the Satellites.

“Ah yes, we will, but it will take longer to prepare for Pluto. Its surface is plasmatic, you see. And then there is thick ice beneath the layer of plasma. Underneath that, we hope, is liquid water. From which we will able to take samples from and check for signs of life. It could take several weeks to drill through Pluto’s shell.” Franklin explained, Crozier cut him off cynically.

“If Pluto really has a shell! It may be all ice. And we don’t even know for certain how thick the plasma is.” Crozier asserted.

Franklin shot Crozier a glare now and this pleased Fitzjames.

“Well Francis, that is what we have come to find out isn’t it? That is why we are here.” Franklin said.

Fitzjames snickered through his nose. His gaze had not yet lifted from Crozier and it was making the Terror's Captain uncomfortable.

Little cleared his throat and explained to Hodgson; “We can send men in suits to Charon and Ross with hardly any preparation, but it will take quite a while to prepare for the harsher conditions of Pluto… We may not be able to walk on Pluto’s surface at all.”

“ When Pluto is closer to the sun most of its ices transform from a solid into a gas, that would be the best time to collect samples. But such an atmosphere is safe only for a brief period, if any men are still on the surface when the ice returns they will be engulfed in it. The change in atmospheric density would crush them.” Crozier grumbled and then took his pills.

“Has anyone here heard the theory,” Doctor Macdonald began jubilantly, “That there could be pockets of air under the surface of the ice moonoids and planetoids? And that some of these air pockets could be so large, they could contain whole bubble worlds, with flora, fauna and breathable gasses.”

“I once read a story about an alien civilization like that, Doctor.” Hodgson replied gleefully. “When the human explorers discovered that planet, towards the end, their drilling burst the bubble, and the whole eco-system just popped.” He chuckled nervously. The others smiled at this.

“Rather a sad ending. Let’s hope we don’t make that sort of mistake.” Laughed Fitzjames.

“If there really was a world like that, it sounds rather like the out-dated biblical concept that the earth was essentially a bubble surrounded by water. How curious.” Said Edward little.

“Ah yes, the bible says if god opens the heavens there is a flood, implying that the sky is filled with water. That is a rather curious conclusion for our ancestors to come to, considering how we may yet find worlds, maybe even people, for whom, the myth of a sky filled with water is true.” Hodgson agreed.

Jopson had five minutes break after serving the officers their breakfast. He went to the observation deck to stare out at the moons and stars. As he recalled the conversation about the naming of Crozier’s moon he began to seethe.

His thoughts were interrupted by the voice of lieutenant Irving, whom he hadn’t noticed had taken to standing beside him, also looking out across the optacon. “Bloody boring, wasn’t it?” Irving breathed, as if coming up for air now that he was away from his superiors.

Jopson quickly got over the way Irving had startled him and gave the lieutenant a half-lidded gaze.

“Actually I found it all quite fascinating, sir.” As much as Jopson tried to hide it, it was clear the suggestion insulted him. He tilted his head up in a proud manner.

Irving stooped slightly and held his hands together in front of himself.

“…penny for your thoughts?” Irving asked shyly and tried to remain light-hearted.

“Can I be plain?” asked Jopson, he struggled to mask his anger. Irving started to wish he had let the lad alone now.<

“Erm… for two minutes.” Irving requested shakily and checked his watch.

“Oh well don’t you adhere to a strict and disciplined schedule!” Jopson huffed and rolled his eyes.

“Thomas?” Irving seemed confused and meek, shrinking back slightly in alarm. Jopson realized how aggressive he had sounded then and swallowed it.

The petty officer took a deep breath and calmed. “I’m sorry, I’m not angry with you, actually I’m glad you want to talk, even if you can only spare two minutes, that’s more than enough, John.”

Irving smiled at Jopson, but his eyebrows were furrowed with worry.

“Don’t you think it’s unfair that Captain Crozier’s moon is being named after Sir James Ross? The Captain is the one who found it! He should be free to name it after himself!” Jopson declared passionately.

Irving relaxed his previously apprehensive stance now that he understood. “Sir John Franklin gets the final say on all matters out here. Our Captain never bothered to argue, and neither should we. That is not our place.”

Jopson’s expression changed, from disappointment, to bewilderment, to one of calm intrigue before he responded.

“Do you think people are like tools in a box? All with an established place and purpose?” The younger man questioned.

“Back home, no, but aboard a ship on a mission, I do. Here every man has his use, his role to play. Stick to it or else the whole structure will collapse.” Irving warned.

“Structure?”

“The authority Structure.”

“And then what?”

“What?”

“What happens when it collapses?”

“If it Collapses… then there is chaos.” Irving said gravely.

“But John… humans are naturally chaotic… it takes years of instruction for a person to learn to fit into any kind of structure.”

“There’s nothing ‘natural’ about being cooped up in a metal beetle this far away from Earth. Nature is not a factor out here. Any kind of security we have in a place like this is man-made, artificial and part of the structure. Out here… Chaos… is certain death, Mr Jopson.” Irving spoke with foreboding and all seriousness. He punctuated his argument with a single nod. This coupled with the way he’d addressed Jopson by his surname made it clear the two minutes was up.  
“Are you going to give me a penny now?” Jopson asked humorously.

Without a further word between them, Irving left Jopson alone on the observation deck.

Jopson looked back out of the optacon window and pondered with a calmer face now, until six blips sounded, then he would get back to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Irving is still christian but less vocal about it and preaches more about chaos and maintaining law and order instead.  
> Everyone knows the pills they take can have side effects if taken often over long periods, MacDonald warns Jopson not to take them because he's younger and just wants to give him some personal medical advice.


	3. Suit up, Mr Collins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr Collins is sent out to fix Erebus's broken satellite.

Aboard Erebus, first Lieutenant Henry Le Vesconte took charge in Sir John and Fitzjames’s absence. He was similar in age to The Terror’s first Lieutenant, but he had more battle-experience, which perhaps accounted for the early greying of his hair, that had faded from black, to the colour of a blue-fox pelt. He was marginally taller and thinner, and outwardly prioritized being well groomed and well dressed, second only to James Fitzjames’s in this field. His body language was fox-like as his face, he was quiet, cautious and trick some.

He had recently taken their youngest officer, Charles Frederick Des Voeux under his wing. Nowadays the dark featured youth followed Le Vesconte around like a duckling attached to its mother. The only time De Voux could bare being separated from Le Vesconte was when he was given precise orders. Otherwise he would stare at Le Vesconte with large, sparkling, cole-black eyes until the older man paid him some brotherly attentions.

Since witnessing De Voux and Mr Collin’s brave but in the end fruitless efforts to save the unfortunate Billy Orren from an accident with the air lock two weeks prior, Le Vesconte had promised De Voux a promotion to Lieutenant should it be required in the future.

They met with Erebus’s other lieutenants on the ship’s bridge: James Walter Fairholme, a moustached brunet and Graham Gore, a fair featured youth with cat-like green eyes and an air of enduring optimism. 

“Did you have any luck with our satellite repairs?” asked Le Vesconte. 

Fairholme shook his head and turned his attention to the magnetic and gravitational reading screens, he was assisting Mr Reed, Erebus’s Astro-master.

“The repair droid we sent out malfunctioned, and that’s only added to the blockage I’m afraid.” Gore reported. “I’d suggest sending Mr Collins out in a suit to retrieve the debris of the broken repair droid as soon as possible. If he can bring it back, we can inspect it and figure out what’s been causing the various electronic disturbances that have plagued our ships as of late.” Gore advised comfortingly.

“Last time we sent a man out it ended quite horribly.” De Voux said worriedly. 

“You’re talking about the incident regarding Mr Orren?” asked Le Vesconte sympathetically.

“Not to worry, De Voux, Mr Collins is a far more experienced astronaut. He’s made more difficult repairs than this in his time.” Gore reassured.

Gore pawed at the switch pad near where Mr Reed and Lieutenant Fairholm were huddled and called Mr Collins to the proto airlock.

“… Le Vesconte, Mr Reed and I are worried about the chaotic orbit of the moons ahead. We should slow our pace, really, but we have no way of getting this information across to Terror while the satellites are down.” Fairholme reported gravely.

“Slow our pace to what you think is appropriate, Lieutenant Fairholme. The Terror will observe and slow down also if they must.” Le Vesconte advised. 

Gore smiled and said, “With Mr Blankey as their Astro-master, Terror’s safety is nothing for us to worry about.”

“The air lock is open.” Le Vesconte said suddenly and pointed to the flashing red light on Gore’s screen. “That must be Fitzjames and Sir John returning from Terror.”

Mr Collins stood in the proto-air-lock, glaring at the row of man-shaped white shells that where Erebus’s three space suit’s to hand. There was a hook and a small, metal name plate where Billy Orren’s suit used to stand. 

The mishap, a fort night ago, flung him irretrievably into the freezing and burning void of space. Collins still saw the spinning, padded figure drifting off into the blackness when he closed his eyes.

It haunted him to think of how Orren must have ran out of oxygen first, after a day or two floating alone in utter terror, knowing he was going to die. Nightmares of such a fate now plagued Mr Collins in every slumber. What he wouldn’t give to talk to Billy Oren. To see him alive and happy again now. The loss of such a close friend felt like a personal attack. Try as he might he could not shake the sticky anxiety that a trap door would suddenly appear and swallow him up, just as death had swallowed up Orren before him.

Collins Changed into his suit before the officers and engineers arrived to assist and to brief him.

The initial feeling of weightlessness that came after his ejection from the ship had always been pleasant at first. But not this time. 

The sudden absence of gravity made him feel numb and cadaver like. 

When he reached the center of the great metal bloom that was the damaged satellite, the cords in the back of his suit tightened like the strings of a marionette.

The derelict husk of the repair droid appeared beyond salvation. But Collins delicately sifted through its scraps. He separated the pieces that were re-usable from those that were not and placed them in the large pouches on either of his suit legs, so he resembled a bee collecting pollen from a flower.

Beneath the debris Collins found an unsettling red and white shape; a mangled and split open shell. It was the crushed and depressurized, still half encased corpse of Billy Orren.

How could it have drifted back to the ship?

Collins burst into hysterics and screamed into his helmet’s intercom. He demanded his life cords be retracted immediately so that he could make as swift a return to Erebus as possible.

Once safely back aboard, Le Vesconte pulled Collins’s helmet off and practically forced the whiskey down the frightened astronaut’s throat. 

Everyone took a step back to give Collins some air. His amber eyes were swollen red and the rest of his chubby, side burned face had turned a sickly green shade of white. Long black curls clung to his forehead and soaked in the cold sweat.

Le Vesconte gripped both of Collins’s hands and pulled him to sit up, for the second master had collapsed onto his knees as soon as he had entered the proto-airlock deck. “What did you see?” Erebus’s first Lieutenant asked earnestly. 

Collins swallowed and panted, “I pulled all the debris out of the satellite rings. They should work fine now. Some dishes are bent, reception might be a bit fuzzy.” he choked. 

His wide eyes moved over Fitzjames and Sir John.

“Well done Mr Collins!” Sir John congratulated. “I envy you! Long have I wanted to move among the stars as you do. What was it like?”

“Like a Dream, sir.” Collins shuddered.


	4. Green Remembered Hills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jopson and Little use a VR simulator together. Inspired partly by A-1 Pictures & Crunchyroll's music video for Porter Robinson & Madeon - Shelter, a must watch if you haven't seen it. Tittle is a mixture of Memories of Green by Vangelis and Blue remembered Hills by Denis Potter.

Eight blips sounded. 

On Terror, Thomas Jopson was making his way back to his cabin for a short break in his duties when he noticed Lieutenant Little coming up the corridor the opposite way from himself. Jopson remembered their previous encounter and in revenge he sped up and stood right in the Lieutenants way just before they passed each other. Little stopped and looked at their feet, refusing to give Jopson eye contact. But from the corner of his eye Little saw Thomas salute. 

“Sir!”

“Please get out of my way, Jopson.” Little sighed.

“Sorry, sir!” Said Jopson, but he wouldn’t budge. At least not quickly enough in Little’s opinion. When Little tried to step to the side and around the petty officer, Jopson moved to block him again. When Jopson did this a second time Little finally looked up at Jopson’s face. 

“Sorry Sir, not doing it on purpose, sir.” Jopson repeated with a playfulness. 

Little halted and looked at Jopson with sad eyes. Clearly, he had no energy for the younger man’s games.

“Please, Jopson, I’m sorry about my rudeness this morning. I was just very worried about the captain.”

“I believe that is my job, sir.” asserted Jopson, now smiling in a less tormenting and more of a genuinely reassuring way.

Little looked slightly relieved. “… how is he?”

“Sir, I seem to recall you, me, him and Dr MacDonald making a deal we would not discuss his health in places where we could be overheard.” Jopson whispered. Little leaned a little closer to him to hear him better.

“Then follow me.” Little whispered back.

Little led Jopson to Terror’s Gaming and Experience library. It contained over two thousand virtual reality gaming simulations to keep the men occupied on their long voyage. 

The only other man in the library that ‘evening’ was Lieutenant Irving. He frequented Terror’s library perhaps the most often. He was working on designing his own virtual reality experience and had mentioned something about it being based on The Titanic when Crozier had asked him what sort of experience it would be like during dinner. Crozier never used V.Rs and had probably only asked out of polite curiosity.

Irving’s hands were gloved with a kind of nimble, brass-like machinery used specifically when one was building and programming.

“Lieutenant Irving.” Little said in acknowledgement as he walked by. Irving lifted his head set off his light-brown, bearded face briefly to observe that Little was leading Jopson to one of the library’s private booths. 

“Sir, pleased don’t interrupt me again unless it is urgent.” Irving requested snappily and jerked the headset back over his face. He slumped back in his chair. He heard the door to the booth close and he lifted his head set up again and gave the booth door a confused sideways look, only now realising how strange it was that Jopson would be spending his break with the first lieutenant. “…I thought they loathed each other.” He muttered to himself before reabsorbing his attentions in the simulation. 

As Little selected and prepared the simulation for the booth, he said. “I grew up in the Lake District. Surrounded by green fields and mountains. God, I miss the mountains. I suppose long voyages like this are much easier for you since you grew up in the capital city. You’re used to staring at rusted piping and rats. Probably never even seen the countryside.”

“I have too been to the countryside, sir! I’ve visited the country on ‘olidays!” Jopson protested and pouted like a child. His cockney accent grew thicker when he was angry.

“Poaching game in southern farm country is hardly a holiday in the country, Jopson.” Little chuckled lightly.

“I never poached, sir, I-!”

Little calmly interrupted the lad’s flustered defence, “Oh no?!” he prodded incredulously. “Please don’t try to deceive me, Mr Jopson.” Little raised his eyebrows at the younger man and stepped closer to him.

“Sir?”

“Someone of your background doesn’t get so skilled with a gun unless he practiced by poaching. No one will arrest you for it here and now so there’s no need to be so secretive. As much as I loathe poachers, I’ve heard you employ some interesting skills in that line of crime. Like misdirection, finding ways to hide your game and come back for it later, things like that. You did what you needed to do to survive. That’s fair. But I should think if you had been caught and hung that would also be fair.”

Jopson was astonished, his parted lips twitched in surprise. “… Sir, if I may beg you to consider, rich men kill animals for sport and don’t even eat them but if some starving urchin takes a shot at their game, they are considered a criminal.” Jopson reasoned.

“Oh? Do you think poor starving urchins like yourself are above the law? You certainly seem to think of yourself as above my authority anyway. Is that because the captain handpicked you?” Little’s eyes narrowed at Jopson and his voice was dark as his gaze.

“No sir! I would never, sir. I’m sorry you took my behaviour to mean that, sir. Sorry I argued sir. Please, I don’t want there to be any arguments between us.” Jopson apologized profusely.

“If only you could have applied your skills as a poacher in some other line of work.” Said Little. So ignorantly and smugly that Jopson wished he could slap him across the face. But of course, he would never raise his hand to a superior officer.

Jopson tilted his head down and swallowed. “That’s why I’m here, sir.” He spat the final word like he would a fouling beetle from his mouth.

“Every time I talk about the Lake District your eyes go positively green with jealousy.” Little observed, quite innocently it seemed. As if he didn’t know how much he had upset the petty officer. 

The simulation was ready now and he put a headset in Jopson’s hands.

Jopson rolled his eyes and snorted, “Green as your countryside, Lieutenant.”

They hid their heads in their sets and Jopson found himself in a vast grassy valley. Either side of him were impossibly tall peaks that half-blocked out an azure sky. The mountains were cloaked with emerald trees, sloping into a deep, cool, sapphire lake.

Uplifted by the beauty of his surroundings, Jopson immediately forgot why he’d been angry with the Lieutenant.

Edward little’s voice sounded behind him and he turned around hurriedly. “I can’t decide. What do you say? Towards the lake or up the mountain?” asked Edward.

“Up the mountain.” Thomas Jopson said with a smile and a nod.

They started up on of the slopes together, Edward leading the way, for he knew the path the simulation was based on. “Unfortunately, the programmers have not yet upgraded this experience so it can simulate that gratifying rigor of mountain climbing. But it can stimulate the body for sensations like rain or the feeling of wading into a cold lake. And with the setting on a hot summers day like this we will start to feel like we are sweating soon, but it will only be the computer affecting our nervous system.” Edward explained.

Thomas took on barely any of Edwards words, he was too taken in by the beauty of the landscape and how realistic the graphics were. He could smell flora, feel the wind and the soft earth against his feet. The younger man took his shoes off to know the grass on his soles as they went.

Thomas yelped when he felt as sting on the underneath of his heal and he lifted it up to find a large thorn wedged into his flesh.

Edward stopped and spoke sympathetically, “Oh, sorry, I didn’t notice you took your shoes off. The pain settings are on maximum, I wanted it as real as possible.”

“Can you turn them off please, sir?” Thomas asked, his eyes watering slightly with the sting of the imaginary thorn.

“While you take the thorn out. But after that it’s going back to my preferences.” Said Edward. He raised his hand and a translucent light pad appeared in front of him that he touched to alter the settings.

Jopson sighed with relief when the pain stopped. He pulled the thorn out and to his surprise it left no mark and no blood oozed from its place of intrusion. He threw it far away from himself, as if worried it would come after him, and it landed in the short grass.

“Put your boots back on, I want to feel the sting of cool, heavy rain.” Edward ordered. Due to their surroundings, Jopson had almost forgotten he was with his superior, and why he had been brought there.

“Yes, sir.” He said meekly. It didn’t matter if Jopson didn’t want the rain and sharp stones and thorns on their simulated trek. If Lieutenant Little ordered it, he had no choice but to comply and keep his complaints to himself.

This was all done on purpose to remind me of my place- Jopson thought to himself.

“Sir, about Captain Crozier. This morning he seemed quite sick with his drink. But once I opened the great window and told him the Hydra was in view, he lit up... It’s so rare to see the Captain in high spirits and I was glad of it. Although it was ever so temporary. He’s been suffering from insomnia and melancholia since we got out of suspension*. And he drinks far too much of the Torgluecaff.” Jopson informed.

“A man doesn’t get so far in the discovery service if he does not yearn to see such sights as Pluto, Charon and Hydra aligning with his bare eyes. It’s no surprise he forgot his burdens for a moment.” Said Little. 

Jopson nodded.

“Can you see if you can find a way to ease the Captain’s drinking?” Little requested.

“I’ve been trying that out of my own personal concern for his health, sir. But I don’t want to be too persistent because part of the reason he takes a shine to me is that I’m always so compliant with his demands and tolerant of his vices, sir” Jopson reasoned.

“You should try to be firmer with him about his health. He’s more likely to listen to you than the doctors. He trusts you because he’s known you for so long.” Edward advised.

The first Lieutenant was still as stiff and formal as ever, but he also looked content now as the rain beat their ears and dampened their dark hair.

Further up the peak. The ground stopped being soft and became loose, sharp stones.

Jopson’s ears and fingertips stung with cold and it felt like his clothing was clinging uncomfortably to his skin thanks to the rain.

Jopson huffed with frustration as his thought’s strayed and he stared at the back of Lieutenant little’s head. -He likes pain. He’s a sadist. He’s brought me here to torture me on purpose. I won’t forget this. –

Due to a violent push from a strong wind, Jopson lost his footing on the loose wet rocks and fell, almost off the steep side of the mountain. 

Lieutenant Little grabbed him by the wrist and steadied him.

“Lucky I caught you. With the pain settings up this high, that would have been a nasty experience.” Little told him in a kindly way.

He led Jopson by hand a little further, over some more difficult rocks, hoisting the younger, confused man that trailed behind him like a weary child in an unfamiliar world. “Almost at the top now.” Little assured him upon releasing his grip. “Soon we will hopefully be able to climb some real mountains.” Little said eagerly.


	5. Plutonic Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crozier sends some messages to his friends back on Earth.  
> Lt Gore, Dr Goodsir, Peglar and Sgt Bryant check out the new moon Crozier discovered and find some creepy stuff.  
> Sorry I'm just making this up as I go haha.

Alone, Captain Crozier sat in front of his telescreen in his berth and put it into record mode. He looked restless and disheveled, sat in a room lit dimly by Pluto’s glow and the screen itself, with a glass of Torgluecaff in his hand.

“Hi Jamie...” He spoke to the empty screen. “…I hope the wedding was nice, sorry I couldn’t be there… eh hem… I discovered a new moon recently. After a discussion with the other officer’s we’ve decided to name it Ross, after yourself.” Crozier gestured forwards with his glass as if James Ross were in the room with him. He tried to imagine he was. “Tomorrow we will begin excavating on Charron, Ross and Hydra.” Crozier got up and rotated the screen so it could record the sight in the fish eye window behind him. “The view’s pretty good from up here… looking forward to your next message. All is well.” 

Crozier stopped the recording and sent the message off on its slow path back to earth. It takes roughly four and a half hours for radio signals to travel between Earth and Pluto.

He was about to start a new message for Sophia Craycroft when Jopson arrived.

“Sir?”

“Ah, Jopson, would you just give me a moment to record one message before bed? Fifteen minutes should do it.” Crozier requested softly.

“As you wish, sir.” Jopson replied with his usual smile and left the room. Stood outside the Captain’s door, it was difficult for his uniquely sensitive ears not to pick up the Captain’s voice.

“Sophia... I’m sorry I didn’t have the patience to wait for your next message. I’m expecting your response any day now… but you do occupy ninety-nine percent of my thoughts, as strange and potentially upsetting as that may seem to hear. I don’t take it personally that we can’t be together, and I understand your decision entirely. You are and always will be my greatest friend, Sophia. Sir John is safe, there have been no arguments between us, all is well. I discovered a new moon, and I would have named it Sophia had the other officers not insisted it be named after James Ross. But don’t tell Jamie that.” Crozier laughed lightly. He paused to think and sipped his drink again. “Sophia would have been a better name for a moon than Ross.” Crozier decided out loud. “We’re sending men down for samples tomorrow, on Charron, Ross and Hydra. And a week from now we will be free to begin exploring the surface of Pluto. If we find any rare minerals are macrofauna I will send you samples as soon as possible, as I know you love to collect such things. Lastly, I feel compelled to thank you again for that very expensive gift you commissioned for me before my mission to Mercury. I still have it with me, as you know, and out here, without it, I would not be fit to serve as Captain. Thank you, Sophia.” 

Crozier ended his message and called Jopson back into the room.

The next day three Lieutenants, leading groups of four each, were sent out to various moons. Hodgson’s team was sent to Charron, Irving’s team was sent to Hydra and Gore’s team was sent to Ross.   
Harry Goodsir, the Erebus’s Naturalist and assistant surgeon had eagerly volunteered to join Gore’s team on Ross. 

The other two men with Gore and Goodsir on the first trip to Ross where Sergeant David Bryant, a marine with a red beard and a gun, put there only to be a good shot if some unexpected skirmish were to break out on the ice; and Henry Peglar, a clever lad who was training himself through study to assist in maintaining The Terror’s garden, which presently had no real caretaker. He was shy and rarely spoke to anyone other than his long-time friend John Bridgens, who was the caretaker of Erebus’s garden when he was not serving his officers. 

Peglar was appointed to drive the snowmobile/moon rover. Bryant was sat next to him with his gun at the ready and Goodsir and Gore were pouring over scientific readings and equipment together in the back seats.

“This is amazing. The conditions where the water flows are perfectly earth like.” said Goodsir to Lieutenant Gore. “If we don’t find at least some sort of native macrofauna down here I should like to try growing a garden.” Goodsir was giddy with enthusiasm.

Peglar was enthused when Dr Goodsir talked about making a garden on Ross, he broke out of his usual shyness. “It’s a splendid idea, Dr Goodsir!” He said. “I think we could grow Siberian Lichens on the surface if we bring or find some rocks. And we have lots of cool-climate, water-based plants aboard Erebus, do you think this moon would be better at accommodating pond weed or seaweed?”

“That will depend on the salt content of the water. We’ll have to check multiple samples from different parts of the moon before we start planting, but I estimate there are few minerals here, and there for the water should be fresh.” Goodsir replied.

“Will Lilly pads grow do you think?” Peglar asked excitedly.

“I hope so.”

“This could end up being like a pond or swamp world.” Peglar giggled. 

Sergeant Bryant rolled his eyes at Goodsir and Peglar’s enthusiasm for botany.

“Would you like to use the infrared screen for a while Dr Goodsir?”

Lieutenant Gore asked and offered Goodsir the curved screen he was holding with both hands. 

“Yes, thank you… you keep calling me ‘doctor’ but I’m only an anatomist.” Goodsir said humbly as he accepted the screen from Gore. 

Gore grinned, patted Goodsir on the shoulder and said, “That’s a Doctor in my book.” 

After a long period focusing on their observations in silence Gore looked up again and asked Goodsir, “Have you heard about Doctor Silna Silence?” 

“Yes, I’ve met her in fact. She brought back fossilized macrofauna from Pluto and presented it at the Ottowa science fair in Canada. That was just before we left Earth. What did she call her specimens again?”   
Gore didn’t reply and to ease the awkward silence Goodsir mumbled shyly, “Ah, I don’t remember but she had a fondness of naming things in Inuktitut instead of the more traditional Latin.”

“We received news this morning that she has gone missing.” Said Gore.

Goodsir’s dark green eyes widened, “Missing? She’s the last person on earth I’d expect would go missing!” 

“Ironic isn’t it, that someone could come all the way out here and get back home safe. But then disappear from their own back garden?”

“It’s hard to imagine anyone came out here before us…” Goodsir remarked in astonishment and studied the cold white desert surrounding them. “…This sounds very suspicious. Dr Silence was very high profile and a skilled survivalist, she couldn’t just vanish! …I wonder if her discoveries offended someone.” Goodsir pondered.

“See any heat signatures through the screen yet, Goodsir? Or is this snowball boring from every angle?” asked Sergeant Bryant grumpily.

Gore leaned over Goodsir’s shoulder to look through the visor with him. The lieutenant pointed at a small red triangle. “What’s that?” he asked. “Looks very anomalous.”

“Could it not be a malfunction, Lieutenant? There’s not likely to be a perfect pyramid shape of stark heat on the surface of this ice. It should surely melt and sink to the core otherwise.”

“Let’s go check it out.” Said Lieutenant Gore. “Mr Peglar, take us south by south west if you please.”

“Sir.” Peglar nodded.

Lieutenant Gore asked everyone to be quiet while he put on a large pair of headphones attached to a mechanical box that picked up and amplified atmospheric disturbances. He looked very pleased by whatever he heard. He excitedly offered the headphones to Goodsir and asked him to listen. 

Goodsir looked very frightened by what he heard and he remarked shakily, “...It sounds like a heartbeat.”

Gore’s team arrived at a great black pyramid, rotating glinting and hovering over a pool big hole in the ice.

The glugging heartbeat was now audible without the headphones. 

The four men got into their white space suits and left their little yellow box of a vehicle. 

They stared in disbelief for a moment. Then they walked around the pyramid to have a good look at it.

“Whatever it is, it must have been made by an intelligence.” Lieutenant Gore concluded. He operated a droid to collect samples from the pyramid, ice and water. Meanwhile Peglar took his phone out and recorded.

“No straight lines in nature.” Said Peglar.

“That’s a prolific myth but it’s not necessarily true.” Said Goodsir. 

Being corrected, however gently, always made Peglar blush with embarrassment.

Goodsir looked at his surrounding’s through the visor. Then he took out a cylinder from his inside coat pocket and crouched to get a sediment sample.

Everyone paused and turned to watch the sun set behind Pluto. The cosmos put on a show of blue orbs and yellow beams. The sun was dwarfed because of its distance but created a glowing, golden ‘C’ shape as it melted into Pluto’s side. The men stood on Crozier’s moon could feel the prickly cold as it crept up their space suits, along with the thick black shadows.

When Ross’s misty atmosphere faded from white to black the green lights in the space suits switched on automatically.

The ice was rising, creaking, the lake beneath the giant pyramid froze over. 

“Just what this place needed, more ice.” Bryant joked nervously. 

“We’d better get back to our vehicle and get something to eat.” Said Lieutenant Gore. The confidence in his voice was reassuring to the others.

Gore’s team returned to find their rover ripped open and upside down with its contents strewn across the ice. 

“What could have done that?” Bryant hissed angrily.

“There must be a creature.” Said Peglar fearfully.

“But what?”

“It must be a form of aquatic creature, but we haven’t detected the right sorts of gasses for there to already be something very large living here.” Goodsir observed, confused and afraid.

“…We should try to make a shelter out of the wreck. I’ll radio Erebus and ask them to send a rescue party for us.” Gore proposed and switched the beacon signal of his suit on. The others copied him. A yellow light flashed and sent out an inaudible S.O.S transmission.

Gore pressed down the intercom switch that was over his colour bone. A quite stream of static. “Lieutenant Graham Gore calling Erebus.” He repeated three times while the others looked at him hopefully.

Static.

“For fucks sake!” Bryant grumbled when there was no reply.

They pushed their rover upright and set their two repair droids that they had been carrying, folded up on their backs, to work fixing the rover so they would be able to sit in it with their helmets off and eat. Goodsir and Peglar collected the food packs off the ground while Bryant searched for the creature with his inferred binoculars and Gore continued trying to contact either one of the ships.  
Radio silence.

Running out of options, Gore decided to try contacting the other Lieutenants, starting with Hodgson.

“Signal received by Lieutenant Hodgson, are you alright, Graham?” 

“There is a creature on Ross’s planet. Something… destroyed our rover and we’re stuck here unless you send a rescue party for us. Please send someone.” Gore requested very calmly considering the danger he had found himself in.  
“Did you try contacting Erebus and Terror?” asked Hodgson.

“No… I mean, yes, I tried but they did not reply.”

“My party are just on our way back to the ship now, someone will be down for you shortly.” Hodgson assured but sounded worried. “This creature you spoke of, where is it now?”

“I don’t know…”

“Try to keep a low profile. Maybe turn your suit lights off.” Hodgson advised.

“That might only serve to hinder us. We don’t know anything about this creature, we haven’t seen it, it may not detect light or sound at all. We need our lights to see and to signal Erebus and Terror.” Gore resoned.

Sgt Bryant gave Lt Gore a gun and suggested; “Our best bet is to keep our lights on and shoot it if it comes near us again. It’ll never have encountered creatures like us before and will probably wonder blindly towards us.”

Meanwhile on Terror, Lieutenant Irving’s party had returned from hydra. He’d taken Hartnell, Armitage and Tozer with him and they had retrieved a being from the ice. It was still frozen, and humanoid in size and shape. The discovery had put everyone on board in a hustle of surprise.

Irving was overwhelmingly glad when the specimen was taken away to be analysed by Crozier and MacDonald, finally it was his responsibility no longer and he could sit down at the ships bar and have something to drink.

Crozier and MacDonald stood outside the large window into quarantine, waiting for the being from Hydra, who they quickly dubbed ‘The Hydronian’ to be thawed out of its block of ice. 

“This will take hours, Captain. I recommend we come back tomorrow.” Doctor MacDonald advised warmly when he saw how intently the Captain was focused on the specimen.

“Do you think it’s native to Hydra?” the Captain asked hoarsely.

“Very unlikely sir, probably from another solar system entirely.”

“Can there be panspermia between solar systems? There is known to be a layer of hot plasma around each star system, it’s difficult for creatures to drift aimlessly from system to system. So it would make more sense for the creature to have evolved there or some place near by.”

“I speculate it is from an ancient, advanced race of being that were able to travel between systems. We are on the verge of that technology ourselves.”

“It’s too close to a human for it to be an alien.”

“No, it’s too close to an alien to be a human.” Dr MacDonald contradicted and shook his head. “It may appear to have the basic stick-figure outline of a human but it’s structure is all wrong, and I can tell that even with the distortions of the ice. We’ll be able to analyse it properly tomorrow.”

Jopson’s voice came through on the communication’s device sown into Crozier’s collar. “Captain, I’ve brought you and Dr MacDonald some tea, will you open the door?” Jopson requested politely.

The Doctor and the Captain smiled at each other and Crozier moved to let Jopson in.

They thanked him for the tea and he moved to look at the Hydronian through the glass.

“Did you bring us tea only because you were itching to have a look at the specimen, lad?” asked Doctor MacDonald with a faint laugh.

A loud, whistling, beeping noise that reached several different pitches in chaotic order flew out of the speaker in the corner of the room and stopped after a second as if the alert had been pressed accidentally and then cancelled. The noise made everyone jump in surprise.

Lieutenant Little’s distressed and serious voice crackled over the speaker next, “Captain Crozier to the bridge immediately!” 

The three men exchanged worried looks and Crozier put his cup down and hurried out of the room. Jopson saw that Crozier had forgotten his coat and knew it was cooler on the bridge than the lower decks, so he fetched it and ran after Crozier to give it to him.

The ship’s bridge was full of panic. Crozier, still being followed around by Jopson, gave Little a concerned look as he came in and was about to ask him what was wrong when he heard Goodsir and Fitzjames’s voices. 

A video conference between themselves on Terror, Fitzjames and Sir John on the Erebus and Goodsir on Ross was being held. 

Goodsir was running in the dark and sobbing while a shower of hailstones pattered against the glass of his helmet, “There’s a creature on Ross! I-I think it… it got Lieutenant Gore! I don’t know where the others are now, I’m just trying to get as far away from it as possible!” 

When Sir John heard what happened to Gore, he was so angry that he stormed off screen, leaving Fitzjames to clear up this mess.

Crozier just stared, confused and wide eyed at the screen. 

“We’ve already sent a rescue party out, Mr Goodsir. We’ve retrieved Peglar and Bryant already; help is on it's way.” Fitzjames informed. 

Crozier turned to Little, who looked at him helplessly.   
“Why didn’t I hear about this earlier? I would have gone down and rescued them myself!” Crozier shouted.  
“I notified you as soon as I heard from Fitzjames, sir.”  
“Francis.” Fitzjames called.  
Crozier turned around and glared at him through the screen.   
“We’re having an officer’s meeting on Erebus at noon tomorrow." Fitzjames informed. "Bring all your lieutenants and Mr Blankly.”

Crozier heaved a tired, frustrated sigh.

On Erebus:

John Bridgens rushed to greet his friend Peglar. He had heard about the incident on Ross and was relived to find his much younger friend was unharmed. Peglar grinned at Bridgens when he saw him and Bridgens pulled Peglar into a tight hug. 

"Thank god you're alright!" Brdigens said. 

"I'm staying on Erebus and going back with the officers tomorrow after noon, so we'll be able to spend some time together." said Peglar.

"Great, you can tell me all about Crozier's new moon and this monster you encountered." said Bridges seriously, and he had Peglar follow him into Erebus's garden.

\--

“We found Lieutenant Gore, he’s alive but just barely.” Fitzjames told Dr Stanley gravely as they made their hurried way to Erebus's sick bay.

“He’ll have to be quarantined.” grumbled Dr Stanley. “And I’ll have to wear a suit while I operate on him.”

Fitzjames waited outside and watched through a window as Dr Stanley cleaned and repaired the mangled, still twitching body of Graham Gore. 

The anaesthetic gradually kicked in and Gore lost consciousness. Sir John Franklin came to join Fitzjames in watching the procedure but Fitzjames's nausea was becoming too overwhelming. The commander apologized and excused himself.

He met Le Vesconte on the way back to his room. Seeing how Fitzjames was looking so pail and distressed the first Lieutenant put his hand on his commander’s shoulder and asked him if he was okay.

“I’m just tied out, Dundee. Dr Stanley seems to think Graham will make a recovery, but… he was in a horrid state just now, I wish I hadn’t seen it...” 

“Are you certain all you need is sleep, James? I think you need something to take your mind off things. We could try out a VR together or watch a film back in my berth?” Le Vesconte offered tenderly and stroked Fitzjames’s hair out of his watering eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fan fiction so hopefully I make all my mistakes here and improve. I'm working on this pretty slowly but have a few more notes planned out, next there will be an officer's meeting where Jopson sneaks off to get some top secret files from the Erebus, then there's another Chapter where Jopson and some Lieutenants go to Pluto, so the chest burster scene will probably be around the end of chapter 7. That's when this basically becomes Riddley Scott's AU. Trying to get a lot of sci-fi references in here for the fun of it. This will probably end up around 15-18 chapters long. Please stay tuned and leave a comment.


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